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The traffic was heavy, but I made it to the Starbucks in time.
Inside, I ordered a tall mocha and took my preferred table. The coffee was expensive, but it couldn’t be avoided. When hunting the rich, you had to go where they went.
Nursing my latte slowly, I turned on my tablet to read the news. Now all I had to do was wait for my target.
The table provided me a clear view of the place, but I had to get here extra early to snag it ahead of the two old ladies who seemed to think it had their names on it. It was important to get the chair facing the right direction.
I scrolled through the news on the tablet in front of me as if I were reading it. Each time the door opened, I glanced over.
So far he was a no-show.
My phone chirped that a text had arrived. I rummaged in my purse, hoping Ramona wasn’t telling me she’d locked herself out again.
It wasn’t that, but it was equally bad.
EB: Still thinking of U
My worse-than-useless ex-boyfriend couldn’t get it through his thick skull that it was over. His now-occasional texts were like having a wasp land on you: swat it and invite a counterattack.
I’d tried responding negatively—that had made it worse. The last time I’d texted back that he shouldbug off, which had resulted in a string of sixty-seven more texts before he gave up. I’d counted.
I put the phone away and ignored him, just like last week.
At least he didn’t come by at work. He’d tried that once, and the monster fit I’d thrown had so far prevented any re-occurrence.
Fireman Nick was in line now, with his daily list of a dozen beverages in hand, and my target usually beat him here. Checking my watch, I fretted that he might already have seen the article and decided to skip his mocha before work today. That would be disappointing, to say the least. I was perfectly positioned to see his response if he followed his normal routine.
I switched back to theTimeswebsite.
The story was third from the top, and probably would remain there all day. It would serve him right. I’d checked the print version already and knew the story was several column inches on the front page below the fold, and it continued on page three. It was guaranteed to get a reaction—and cost him a ton in the stock market.
It couldn’t happen to a more deserving monster.
* * *
Dennis
I was running laterthan usual as I shoved my paper under my arm and pushed through the door of my building out into the bright, early-morning sunshine.
Bad idea.
He stood directly in my path and shoved an envelope at me. “Dennis Benson, you’ve been served.”
In retrospect, looking through the glass before I opened the door would have been a good idea. But I knew that wouldn’t have accomplished anything other than putting off the inevitable.
If I’d ducked out the back, he would have tagged me at work, or back here in the evening. As distasteful as it was, there was no avoiding these legal arrows she sent my way.
My God, the woman could be vengeful.Hell hath no fury, they say, and that was understating it in this case. What a bitch.
I pocketed the envelope and set off on my morning walk to get my coffee. Rituals were good; rituals kept me grounded. I’d read that the first half hour of the day set one’s mood for the rest of it, and a brisk walk followed by a delicious brew was my way of starting on the right foot.
The California sun on my face brightened my mood with every stride. Exercise and being outside, even if not in nature, was good for the mood and the soul. The smog wasn’t as bad as yesterday, and the Santa Monica mountains were visible. Their winter shade of bright green had already given way to summer’s duller colors. I tried to ignore the wretched envelope and take my mind back to walking the woods and the seashore, camping, and cooking over a campfire.
Back-to-basics activities brought us closer to nature and our roots as pioneers. The Benson family had been early settlers in California, and I was proud to be a fourth-generation Californian, not a recent transplant like so many of those I encountered.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the door and entered Starbucks.
The line wasn’t long, but the fireman at the counter was reading from a list, and the last time I was behind him it had been quite a wait.
